


Small Room, Big Ego.

by bethesdad



Category: Quake City
Genre: Competition, Elevator Sex, Frustration, Gay, M/M, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethesdad/pseuds/bethesdad
Summary: yEET here's my pretty little Quake City one-shot about my sweet, nasty boy Cas being a flirtatious asshole. Have fun.





	Small Room, Big Ego.

 

Goddamn, it’s been one hell of a long day. The only thing on your mind is the fantasy of lying down in your bed, wrapping a big blanket around you, and slipping off into the abysmal embrace of sleep. Sweet nothingness-- the closest thing you can get to death without actually kickin’ the bucket. Someone could punch you in the face right now, knocking you out cold, and you would thank them. Once you woke up, that is. But then again… Why would your attacker still be there once you were awake? Do you know your attacker already, or are they just some creepy stranger who wanted to watch you sleep? Fuck. Why are you thinking about this? It occurs to you that it just goes to show how tired you are that this is what you’re devoting your brain processing power to. 

 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and push your way through the glass revolving door at the mouth of Williams Tower. This is only your third week interning here-- and it is one hell of a ride. Most of what you do is act as secretary for one of the gang’s trusted lieutenants, but regardless all the crazy shit that the Kings get into puts you in a tailspin. It’s impossible to keep up with all of their antics, so you just… stop trying. You do the paperwork that’s assigned to you, you attend the meetings you’re invited to, talk to who you need to, etc etc. You’re a good worker, but as far as getting deeply involved in the crime world goes- you’re not interested. 

 

Why snag a job with the Cottonmouth Kings in the first place then? Well… No better way to climb the corporate ladder than to claim a noteworthy position with arguably the most notable gang in the US of A. That’s what you tell yourself you’re on the way toward. Even if you technically become some form of a criminal via your career choices, your goal isn’t to get involved in the violence-- you want power in another sense of the word. You want money, status, and overall a secure lifestyle that evidently keeps you safe from the streetrat gangs. 

 

On your way out of Williams Tower, you’re immediately greeted with a wave of unwelcome sound and reminded of just how much of a boisterous shitshow this city was on a daily basis. People chatting all around you, cars polluting the air with just a much sound as they did smoke. You swear somewhere off in the distance you can hear a gunshot or two. That doesn’t really scare you, not after having lived here for a few months. It’s commonplace. Your teeth clench together without your notice; a natural instinct to the stress crawling up under your skin. Just… just gotta get home. 

 

You walk at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, shouldering by people with ease and keeping your eyes fixed on anything but the passerbys’ eyes. Making eye contact with random people in Quake City can mean a few things-- awkward nothingness, a flirtatious wink, or a glare followed by a shank in your gut. One of those things are something you would really like to avoid. Thusly, you guard your eyes. 

 

Lucky for you, you make it quite a ways down the cracked concrete paths without being bothered by a single soul. Today must be karma apologizing to you, reminding you that you’re really not that shitty and don’t deserve to be assaulted on the sidewalk. What a blessing. This is a representation of how you’re not that bad of a person; that the world doesn’t have to punish you because you don’t do malicious things. You’re doing just fine. Maybe some of the things you do get unethical at times, yeah, but at least you don’t--

 

Your attention is snapped out of your thoughts and your eyes shoot up at a sharp sound, that of a motorcycle screeching along the road and pulling to a stop on the sidewalk itself. God. Oh God. Spoke too soon about karma, the first thing you notice about the motorcyclist is the gun on his hip. Before you’ve realized it, you’re stopped dead in your tracks, wide-eyed and staring at a bloody mess of a man climbing off his bike while his chest heaves with heavy coughs. 

 

He stumbles as he tries to gain his footing on solid ground, as if he’s been through such an ordeal that he’s terribly disoriented. You can’t see his face, as it’s covered by a stark black helmet, and all of his clothes are stained with blood that stands out against the black fabric. Well… Except for the hint of blue on his short t-shirt-- Oh, wait. That’s a crop top. Alright. Wearing a helmet, but nothing to cover his belly- that’s… Not exactly smart, but you aren’t complaining given his abs are-

 

Dude. What are you doing? This guy is a potential threat, covered in blood, has a goddamn _ gun _ on him, and you care about how ripped he is? Go ahead and get yourself killed that way, dumbass. Regardless of your realization that you really should not be gawking, your body hasn’t let you move yet. You’ve frozen up like a shallow pond in the dead of winter. You haven’t even noticed that everyone else around you has fled the area, seemingly afraid of whoever this guy is- or possibly the trouble they expect he’ll drag along with him. 

 

Now it’s just you and this dangerous stranger, who by now has regained his balance and is cursing to himself about how goddamn much all of his wounds hurt. He’s bleeding from a slash just above his right hip, and he flinches harshly as he touches it. As he talks to himself… You swear that voice sounds terribly familiar. For some odd reason, you can’t place whose voice that is, and maybe that’s because you’re a little out of sorts with this situation. That aside, next thing you notice, the mysterious stranger has caught notice of the fact that you’re the only person who hasn’t abandoned the scene. 

 

You can’t see his eyes, but you’re goddamn sure he’s staring right at you. You feel like your blood just ran cold-- and maybe time just stopped. If this were a movie, this would be the moment before someone gets kissed or someone dies. So… You’re definitely gonna get fucking shot. Then, everything seems to resume as his hands reach for his helmet, gripping it tight with fingers that you’ve only just noticed are bearing hooked claws. Wait a minute--

 

The helmet seems like it comes off in slow motion, but as soon as it’s off it gets tossed to the ground like it’s nothing. Your eyes follow it as it skids away from the stranger, but once your eyes are back on him… _Holy fucking shit._ Did your heart just stop? Maybe. He lifts one of his clawed hands to push his disheveled hair back, clearing it away from his forehead and leaving every feature of his face revealed to you. A jawline that could kill, clean-shaven tan skin, perfectly curved lips, bright yellow eyes… Bright, uh. Bright yellow eyes-- Oh no. _Oh no._

 

_ That…  _ That’s your boss. Like, not the guy a rank higher than you in the office, like your  _ boss  _ boss. Casper Williams. You’ve never been this close to him in person before-- the closest you’ve gotten before this point is seeing him rush by you in the hallways of Williams Tower. What, uh… What the hell do you do in this situation? Do you ask if he’s okay? Do you try and help him into the tower? Do you just leave and pretend you saw nothing? 

 

Before you manage to pull yourself back into reality, maybe do something other than just stare, he’s taken a few strides closer to you and pulls a grin. Maybe more of a smirk, something more devious and charming than humble and kind. 

 

“You’ve either got some balls to still be here, or you’re scared so shitless you can’t move.” He’s got a faint chuckle under his voice by the time he finishes that statement, and he’s walked right up to you. You can feel your muscles tense up, your eyes meet his and you gulp back a terrible nervousness in your throat. He lets silence hang between the two of you for only a moment or two before he rolls his eyes and flicks you in the center of your forehead. “That answers my question,” he murmurs. “Snap out of it, princess.”

 

You flinch and shake your head after he flicks you, a red flush of embarrassment coming over your cheeks. “Sorry, fuck, I uh--” You clear your throat as you struggle for words. “I’m fine. Just wasn’t.. Expecting…” Your eyes drift away from him and back over to his motorcycle, which by now you’ve noticed is scratched to hell. 

 

“Uh-huh, yeah. I get it. Nobody really expects runaway motorcycles driven by snake dudes,” he states with a brief laugh. You crack a smile at that. For a second… This whole situation feels a lot less threatening than it did before. No longer is he some stranger with a gun, nor a stranger covered in blood, or even a terrifying crime boss, he seems like he’s just-- 

 

Before that train of thought can conclude, the sound of wheels screeching against asphalt and gunshots shatter the air. Cas flinches, curses under his breath, and before you can react he’s shouldering his way past you toward the entrance to the nearest building. Although, instead of being left in the dust, a hand grabs yours and you gasp as he drags you along with him. What exactly did you expect? He was just going to leave you out there to get shot? No, no. You were like a goddamn statue out there, he knew you were gonna get yourself killed. Can’t have that. 

 

You stutter-step at first, but quick enough you’re dashing with him through the double doors into some random business building. You don’t recognize it at first, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Cas seems to know where he’s going as he leads you along, rushing past the lobby and into an elevator. Once he’s pulled you inside and the door seals shut, he lets go of your hand. You feel the sudden desire to slap your own goddamn face as your brain tells you that you wanted him to keep holding your hand. 

 

Cas lets out a long, dramatized sigh and leans against the back wall of the elevator. “Whoo! Close one, huh?” You really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s so casual about this sort of scenario. It’s kind of what he deals with on a daily basis. “Don’t get me wrong, they definitely wanted _m_ y ass, but it’s kinda… Fucked up to leave some stranger out in the open like a sitting duck. _“Hey! Cas isn’t here! Come shoot me instead!”_ Totally can’t have that.” All the while he’s speaking, he makes broad and fluid gestures with his hands. “Not good for the reputation, you know?”  
  
You… Can’t help but grimace. Maybe you should bite your tongue considering your boss did just save your life, but you fail to do so. “So you saved me specifically to keep your hands clean?” You snap, cocking an inquisitive brow at the yellow-eyed serpent. He stops and his expression flatlines for a second-- he definitely was not expecting that reaction. His eyes avert from yours, darting down to the floor. It takes him a second, he shuffles uncomfortably and stutters something under his breath, but eventually he looks back up at you. 

 

“I mean-- No?” That’s not a very solid answer, and that pulls both of your brows down lower, showing your distaste. Cas doesn’t seem to like that reaction, but at least he noticed. Didn’t seem to piss him off, though, just made him… Nervous? Wow. “No, yeah, definitely no. I, um… See, well, I had a lot of reasons to pull you in here, not just the-- the uh-- the reputation thing. That’s just sort of a minor aspect, kind of stupid that I picked that thing to say. Probably should’ve went with something a little more  _ morally commendable _ , but sometimes I get a little carried away with the whole--” 

 

This guy really isn’t good at spitting out the word sorry, is he? “Don’t sweat it,” you interrupt him, putting up a hand as a gesture for him to stop rambling before he keeps digging this hole deeper. 

 

His eyes stray to the floor and he crosses his arms over his chest. Looks like you kinda embarrassed him with pulling that move, maybe he’s not used to being called out on his bullshit. Usually, he probably just gets fawned over for being the  _ gang leader with a soft side. _ Not today, pal. See- you respect and envy Cas, but you’re also very headstrong and aren’t about to back down and bend over for anyone. Not.. Not in this context, at least. If you’ve got something on your mind, 9 times out of 10 you put it to words. Sometimes that bites you in the ass, yeah, but overall you really wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides… That’s _ also _ how Cas is, right? And he’s made it this far with that kind of attitude. Maybe it’s a good headspace to occupy. 

 

There’s a silence that hangs between the two of you for a minute or two. Well… Silent except for the slow, quiet elevator music filling the air. You don’t mind it, this kind of silence is commonplace for you. You can talk all day if you’re engaged, but if you aren’t, you can be content to keep your mouth shut and do nothing more than observe. After all, Quake City is almost certainly the best place on the planet for people watching. There’s no denying that. 

 

But… It looks like Mr. Williams has a much different opinion on standing in silence, trapped in an elevator with a stranger. His claws scratch at the arms of his black bomber jacket all the while his foot taps against the floor. He looks like there’s some building emotion or just raw energy that’s bubbling up under his skin is about to fucking explode. This guy is like a human embodiment of a bottle of diet coke with a Mento in it. But with the cap screwed back on. Your muscles tighten just thinking about that; you know very well he isn’t going to actually pop, but regardless glancing over at his hyper ass makes you nervous. 

 

You… You really didn’t expect to see such strong signs of anxiety in Cas, the leader of a  _ huge crime syndicate _ . On TV, in the newspapers, on the lips of passerbys on the streets, Cas seems so full of confidence and charisma. He looks like the type of guy who isn’t phased by anything, and can slide on through any social situation with absolute ease. Or… Maybe that’s just how he wants himself to be seen, and thus it’s the facade he pulls off when he has to. There’s always cracks in walls people put up around them, you know you’ve got plenty of your own. Maybe this, the way Cas is gnawing at his bottom lip, is a crack. 

 

Without noticing, you get lost in thought assessing his features. In reality, you’re taking in all of his tics and body language, but-- that’s probably not the impression he gets when he spares a glance at you and makes eye contact. Your breath catches in your throat and you frantically look away, but you know the moment before you do he pulls a smirk across his cheeks. You just gave him bait to regain traction in this situation. 

 

“See something you like?” Oh, you called that perfectly. A man like Casper Williams can’t help stroking his ego when he catches some cute guy staring at him. And yes-- you do have a right to call yourself a cute guy. You’re fucking adorable, dammit. 

 

Well, now you have to say something back. Anxiety swells up in your gut and you feel like karma is playing tricks on you. “Does it make a difference? You probably think everybody likes you.” Perfect response, you conclude to yourself in your head. Didn’t necessarily deny that what you’re looking at appeals to you, but also doesn’t necessarily give it away. Hopefully. 

 

Cas rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, letting out a scoff all the while. “Ouch, sweetheart. There’s a difference between a pretty boy and a narcissist, you know,” he purrs back at you with an awful smirk on his face. Fucking… The way his lips curl and push his cheeks up, making his eyes squint in just the slightest way… It’s really cute. Super cute. 

 

“Oh, I know. And you’re the narcissist, right?” You snap right back, warranting a faked gasp from Cas as he places a hand over his heart. Good, good, he’s taking this treatment well. You figured if you started out witty, you might as well keep it going. He’s totally playing along with it, too. Brats are probably his type. Not that… Not that that would matter to you. You’re just entertaining him and trying to make banter so he doesn’t go back into a state of overdramatic discomfort. 

 

“Oh no, you’ve wounded my massive ego!” He whimpers, letting his knees buckle in just the slightest, bracing an arm against the back of the elevator before he perks himself back up and redirects his expression into something much more smug. The sudden change in the look on his face, from something exaggerated and dramatic to something real and yet so devious… For some reason made your stomach tighten. That glint in his eyes, the way his lips perk into a grin, it’s such a striking glare and you can understand why he looks so good on magazine covers. “Be careful what you say, gang leaders aren’t type of people you wanna poke.” 

 

Was that a threat? Your boss is threatening you now. What the hell. By the tone in his voice paired with the look on his face, you’re almost certain he’s playing with you, but regardless it speaks volumes about him that he’d dare to say that at all. The first thought that occurs to you is to threaten him with notifying the police, but you know for a goddamn _ fact _ he’ll laugh at that. This man wears a facade of being absolutely fearless, and it was a given that the police were one of the things he looked at as less threatening than a puppy.

 

You think of a different idea. It’s a bit childish, but at the least it’ll keep you out of legitimate trouble. Or at least, you assume it will. You slide closer to him and reach out to poke his shoulder; he doesn’t budge regardless of the amount of pressure you tried to put it into it. His brows perk, as if he wasn’t expecting that maneuver, and the two of you make eye contact. You brighten up into a grin that matches his- which has faded a bit now. “Are you sure about that?” You drawl, at which he pauses for a moment before he rolls his eyes at you and scoffs. 

 

“Not gonna take my advice, are you?” He challenges, turning on his heels so he’s face to face with you rather than standing beside you. It’s only right now that it really dawns on you that he’s shorter than you. That feels… Weird. He’s got a big personality, but his height doesn’t seem to represent that. Maybe it’s a natural exchange of power, and maybe as a counterbalance he’s got a huge-- Hey, stop. Focus. With your eyes boring into the amber irises ahead of your (color) set, you don’t notice as Cas’s arms unfurl from their folded position over his chest. You don’t get even a moment to react before both of his hands have pressed to your shoulders, shoving you backwards against the wall of the elevator. 

 

You were already awfully close to the wall, so being shoved just makes you slam against the smooth metal and a puff of air leaves your lungs. A shaky little gasp escapes your throat, and an expression of surprise and a hint of fear casts over your face. Cas has a bright, evil little smirk on his lips, and that makes a stupid swarm of butterflies erupt in your guts. Your brain is so fucking fried and scattered that you can’t form any coherent thoughts regarding what exactly is happening right about now, or what exactly Cas’s intention might be. 

 

Cas’s smile widens into one that bears his teeth. He doesn’t have his fangs out right now, and thank god for that, but you can see where they are in his mouth. “Gonna keep up the act, kid? Or you gonna let me push you around now?” Despite the blatant threat in the words coming out of his mouth, you can hear it in his voice that he’s toying with you. He means no harm and he wants a reaction. He’s like a cat swatting at a mouse rather than just killing it. Or.. Actually, hopefully not that-- you don’t want to die as the outcome of this. 

 

Well, now it comes down to the decision placed atop your shoulders. Impress him or bore him; you know for a fact what kind of a reaction a man like this wants. He lives for chaos, but then again… Maybe the right choice here would be to surprise him. That could easily backfire though, considering you don’t know how he takes surprises, but-- you get the idea in your head that if you lash right back, you’ll be playing right into what he wants and being nothing but a willing toy. 

 

Obedience or defiance; ah such a difficult decision to make. You also realize you can’t just stand here with your wide eyes gazing into his while he has you pinned to a wall- you need to buck up and act. Without another thought, you let your body follow out the split-second impulses sparking in your brain. And what does that mean, exactly? You shove your knee hard enough between his thighs to earn a pitiful whimper. You hear him curse under his breath, and when he falters from the pain you shuffle your way out of his grasp. 

 

You do so particularly easily-- but oh, you’re not done yet. Before he has the time to collect himself, you grab him by his shoulders and pull the exact same move he just pulled on you, shoving him against the wall and holding him there. Once his back hits the wall, his eyes have focused back on you and he- thankfully- doesn’t look angry. He looks shocked, lips parted but with nothing to say. For whatever reason, perhaps just the surprise of the situation, his eyes have assumed their reptilian appearance and are staring at you with thin black slits. God, his eyes seem so bright in this form. You can’t help but wonder if they have a glow to them in darkness. 

 

“How’s that for keeping up the act?” You sneer, quirking a brow and wearing a boastful smirk as you admire your handiwork. 

 

Cas grunts and averts his eyes from you as he shakes his head disapprovingly, then looks back to you thereafter. “Don’t get too cocky,” he warns, shuffling his shoulders around underneath the grasp you have on them. “I could get out of this if I wanted to, I’m letting you play your game however you want to.” He cracks his own nasty little grin at that comment, which makes you kind of want to punch him in the face. Christ this man is an arrogant prick, it’s no wonder the only career that worked out for him is crime. 

 

If he’s gonna be that much a jackass, you’re not going to play nice either. “Oh really? Then prove it. Get away from me.” That challenge issues a certain spark of brightness in his eyes, a sense of excitement at the notion of competitivity. So… At least it seems you’re going about this whole situation right. Hey, you don’t mean to interrupt your focus on snake boy, but how long is this elevator ride gonna be? How long have you two already been in here? Not sure. You brush it off and decide you don’t care. 

 

The look on Cas’s face makes you terribly nervous, because he looks oh-so eager and confident. It also occurs to you that this man is an experienced street fighter, and you… Are an office worker. The last time you fought someone was in high school, and that only lasted for about five minutes. You definitely did not cry when you lost. This-- the challenge you gave Cas-- may have been a terrible decision. The tightening anxiety in your stomach, creeping up into your chest, only gets worse and worse. 

 

Realistically, it was only a few moments before Cas acted, but it felt like an  _ eternity _ . Every second dragging on was another grain of torturous sand in the hourglass, counting down the seconds until you get your ass handed to you by a millionaire criminal.  You can’t tell if your heart is beating too fast or if you can’t feel it beating at all. You’re holding your grip on his shoulders as tight as you can, but you can feel that all of your muscles are tensing up. The more the reality of this situation dawns on you, that Cas could kill you within seconds, the more sickly nervous you become. 

 

When the snake does move, you brace like you’re about to get hit by a fucking car. It all happens so fast, you aren’t even sure what transpired at first, but let’s break it down. Cas plucked your hands off his shoulders like it was nothing, one of his hands found its way into the back of your hair, you moved like goddamn putty in his hands, and before you know it--  _ Whoa.  _ How… Why… Uh...

 

Your eyes closed when he grabbed the back of your head, and apparently for damn good reason as a moment later your lips are meeting his. The anxiety hiding in your guts gets so intense that you’re worried it’s gonna crack through your damn ribcage, but… For whatever reason, all of those nasty sensations fade away and dissolve within seconds. Your thoughts? Oh, you have no idea what those are right now, it’s all a blur. A sorta warm, soft blur though, so you don’t mind. 

  
  


Whether or not you’re going to admit it to yourself(or him), you totally just melted into that kiss and enjoyed the fuck out of how his lips felt against your own. You get so lost in it, so into it, it comes as a shock to you when he abruptly shoves you off by the collar of your shirt. A little surprised squeak comes out of your lungs, and that intensifies the already existing blush on your face. 

 

Cas casually saunters out from in front of you, holding his chin high and wearing a proud grin. Your eyes follow him, brows low and embarrassment plastered all over your face. He leans against the wall on the opposite side of the elevator and lets out a long, satisfied sigh. 

 

“Works like a charm,” he purrs, drawing one hand up the wipe the back of his knuckles against his mouth, like he’s gotta clean his lips. That makes your lip twitch just the slightest bit with irritation. What, were you too filthy for him? Cas’s eyes meet yours and those yellow snake irises narrow, all the while the smirk seems to get broader. “Did I prove my point?” 

 

“How about fuck you, dude.” You snap without a second thought.

 

Much to your surprise, a booming laugh echoes in his chest and he tilts his head back. Your face flushes a deep magenta and your eyes stay on him for only a moment, taking in his expression as it wrinkles with a wide smile, before you look to the floor. Oh, the fact that he’s getting a kick out of your attempt at an insult is sort of embarrassing. You thought the way you said that was kind of intimidating… There was a growl under your tone, a fire in your eyes, everything you needed to seem like a badass. Apparently it wasn’t enough, all in all. Whatever, you’re gonna brush it right off and remind yourself of how badly he embarrassed himself earlier. Yeah, you’re in the clear here. 

 

“Fuck me, huh?” Cas’s voice, sharp and potent as it always was, broke you out of your thoughts and guided your eyes to his again. Those amber irises… Christ, they were practically burning your skin with their bright intensity. Getting lost in his gaze again like the awestruck fool you are, you didn’t notice when he took several steps closer to you and stopped only mere inches away. Once your distance, or lackthere of, really occurred to you-- you swore every muscle in your body tightened. You held your breath, nervous as that charming yet admittedly intimidating crime boss parted his lips to speak. “That’s the goal, isn’t it?” 

 

You almost choke on your own spit when those words roll off his tongue. Is… Is he serious, or is he just messing with you? You’re almost certain he’s fucking with you just to get a reaction; he seems like the type to do something like that. But then again… hey, maybe… No, no, don’t even let yourself consider that. You’re imagining that glint in his eyes, that mischief in his smile-- you’re letting your feelings get the best of you. 

 

Wait, wait, wait. Whoa. Back it up there, bucko.  _ What feelings? _ This guy is just your boss, and more than that he’s an international gang leader who you want nothing to do with. You work for him, sure, but you have no desire to really be closely associated with Casper fucking Williams. That’s a road that only leads to danger, drama, and drugs. And, further than that, any feelings you would have for this absolute prick would be purely sexual. He’s not someone you’d wanna buy roses for, but he is someone you’d be fine having to start wearing turtlenecks for. 

 

Alright, but that being said… Doesn’t that mean there are, _ in fact, _ some feelings there? Lust is a feeling.

 

Shut up. Stupid. No. 

 

“You’re fucking gross,” you scoff, “Isn’t it like... Against the rules to hit on your employees in most companies?” You wrinkle your nose and furrow your brows as you respond to him, displaying your distaste all over your face. You play up your disgust to such an extent that you might give away that you’re exaggerating, but that’s yet to be seen. Thus far, his expression hasn’t changed from its original smug state. 

 

Once your words process for him, a low chuckle resonates from his chest and he shoots you a quick wink. “This is a _ gang _ , sweetheart. Even if there were rules, nobody would stick to them.” You haven’t noticed, you’re too entranced by your irritation with this jackass, but he’s gotten even closer to you. “Plus… I’m the head of this whole operation. What I say goes, right?” The lack of distance between the two of you really hits you when his hands find your hips, hauling you up against him. You let out a sharp gasp, and that seems to only intensity the satisfied smirk on his face. 

 

You part your lips to speak, hands already moving up to press against his chest like you’re about to shove him off, but he speaks again. “Don’t overthink this, m’kay? I wouldn’t have started playing with you in the first place if I knew it’d end badly. I think more shit through than people give me credit for.” (he really doesn’t.)

 

“But, hey-- You c-can’t just--” You open your mouth with a higher-pitched, hasty tone, but he’s quick about shutting you up by backing you up against the wall of the elevator. Your back hits that cold metal, a shiver slithers its way up your spine, and you find the sentence on your tongue has entirely dissipated. 

 

“Save it, baby,” he murmurs to you, keeping your attention in a choke-hold as one of his hands slide up under your untucked button-down shirt. His fingertips themselves are soft, warm but colder than your own skin, and you can feel his claws graze your flesh. You tense up and butterflies swarm in your gut-- he hasn’t punctured skin, but holy shit you can already tell how sharp those talons are. Oh, you hate to admit it, but that has your head in the clouds. “Look, don’t consider this related to me being a gang leader  _ or _ your boss. Some things… some things are just for fun.” His thigh has moved between your legs, nudging them apart and letting him apply horribly blissful pressure to your crotch. “Don’t think I couldn’t tell from the second I got off that bike what you think of me--  Let’s have some fun.” 

 

You know you shouldn’t do this. You know this is a big ol’ recipe for disaster. You know way better than to do this. But, dear lord, it’s just… Alright, you have to admit it at this point, it’s hard to resist the proposition of fucking Cas in an elevator. Ah, don’t lie to yourself, it’d be hard to resist sleeping with  _ that  _ anywhere.

 

Well, that’s that. Your eyes lock with his, starstruck and cloudy, and you feel your whole face warm up. He’s looking at you expectantly however with a degree of certainty, like he already knows what answer he’s going to get. Some sliver of you wants to knock that overzealous confidence from his hand, but you just can’t bring yourself to do that right now. “Fine, you won me over. You better be worth all your big talk.” See? An ounce of sass at least makes you less sub-like. Hopefully. 

 

“Good decision, would’ve been kind of awkward if I had to back off at this point,” he lets out a short, warm chuckle at the conclusion of that comment. You can’t help but smile with him, enjoying his less offensive sense of humor as an attempt to lighten things back up. The way he said that, with a tone that wasn’t laced with venom or spite, made having his hands on you a little more comfortable. He’s not here to compete with you or force you into your place, he’s literally just here for a good goddamn time. Yeah, you may be a nameless one-time partner to him, but at least you’re still a person in his eyes.

 

There’s a pause, a moment of silence between the two of you only interrupted by the sound of one another’s breathing and the soft elevator music playing. It’s… Oh, you don’t even know how to describe this moment. Your eyes are melting into his, and for the first time you’re almost certain he’s losing that sharp edge to his expression. He’s softening, that egotistic shell is withering away at long last. Finally, you can see something more than pride and a competitive spirit in his eyes. It’s right about here that you’re reminded that Cas isn’t a one-note person, there’s more to him than his reputation.

 

The moment passes and finally you’re the one to make the first move. Seems like he’s the one that’s gotten lost this time. You slip a hand up against the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his hair, and pull the two of you into a…-

 

_ Ding. _

 

Your breath gets stuck in your chest as the elevator jerks to a stop, chiming a loud bell to alert you that it’s reached its destination. Cas’s eyes narrow and the abrasive edge sinks right back into them, that soft honey-like yellow color isn’t present anymore. It makes your blood run cold, but his eyes look like solid pieces of amber. Pretty, sure, but also hard as stone. You can’t fight the sinking feeling of disappointment in your chest; for some reason you really enjoyed seeing Cas as more than just his jagged facade. You were curious how far that would go and how much of him he’d let you see. Uh… figuratively, that is. Well, and literally. Whatever.

 

Before you really react to the fact that the elevator doors have started sliding open, Cas pushes himself off of you quick as a whip. You breathe again, sharply and with discomfort. Fuck, now you’re just yearning for his touch. What kind of mess have you walked yourself into? 

 

You ease yourself away from the wall, still stuck in a hazy state of mind, and keep your wide eyes focused on your boss. He’s busy running his fingers through his hair, then fixing the collar of his jacket. He’s not facing you anymore, and before it actually processes through your head… he’s almost stepped across the threshold of the elevator. Suddenly, the warm tingle of affection is ripped away and replaced by a feeling akin to ice water being splashed in your face. What the fuck? Where is he going? He can’t just… leave… not when you-- 

“Cas?” You call to him, stutter-stepping a few feet forward and grasping your hand onto his shoulder. He stops under your grip, turns and glances over his shoulder to give you access to those marvelous yellow eyes. He’s-- Oh no. He’s got that bright, devilish smirk painted right across his face again that makes your stomach twist with anxiety. You don’t know where this is headed anymore. Fuck it, you’re gonna ask anyway and clear the air. You don’t have the patience to play games with this snake-man. “You, uh.. You going somewhere?” 

 

Cas rolls his eyes like the answer to that question is just so fucking obvious. “Not somewhere you need to know.” Well, that was rude. Your lip twitches without your notice as irritation and embarrassment bubbles up under your skin. If you were a little more confrontational and impulsive you may have smacked his stupid, handsome face just then. He definitely deserved it. What angle is this guy even playing at? 

 

“So, we’re not..-”

 

A crude scoff and laugh interrupts you, causing your cheeks to burn up like hell. “Of course we’re not going to fuck in this elevator, c’mon! You really bought that?” By now, Cas is standing at the exit to the elevator, pressing his hand to the door as to prevent it from closing. “Look sunshine, there’s one very important thing you forgot about me…”

 

Your guts are tied up into so many knots at this point, not to mention that you feel nauseous from pure humiliation. You stare at this absolute douchebag of a gang leader, wide-eyed and huffy. “And what’s that?”

 

Cas’s hand releases from the elevator door and he crosses into the hallway ahead of him. “I’m married.” 

 

Needless to say, you’re too stunned to move. The heavy metal doors of the elevator slide shut once again with you still inside, separating you and the snake. On the way back down to the lobby, you don’t even know what to think.

  
  


______________________

 

Here’s the grand little epilogue for you: Cas knew what tower he was walking the two of you into, and better yet he knew who was at the top of the tower waiting for him. I’ll give you one guess who it is…

 

Time’s up! It was his husband. Essentially, he stepped into Tommy’s office and gossiped to him about having so easily seduced you. Their relationship is secure in the sense that Cas flirts with people almost to the extent of fucking them, blows them off, and then brags about it to his partner. It’s all in the pursuit of power plays and ego boosts. And sometimes manipulation, but that’s only in very special cases. In other words-- they’re assholes. Absolutely. But hey, at least they communicate, and if you couldn’t tell I constructed this epilogue for the sole purpose of informing you that Cas never fucking cheated and he never will. 

 

Story over goodbye goodnight farewell thank u for reading 

 


End file.
